


In Defense of Lost Causes

by MessiahMachine



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anarchy, Equalist, F/F, F/M, Foe Yay, For Want of a Nail, Gen, Internal Conflict, Politics, Red Lotus Korra, Revolution, Suspense, When an anarchist loves a tankie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessiahMachine/pseuds/MessiahMachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A specter is haunting the world - the specter of revolution. In the waning days of Aang's life, the world began to falter, seized by its internal contradictions. After his death, the world plunged further. All efforts to find the new Avatar failed. Some cling to hope, while others believe the saga of the Avatar has come to an end. 20 years after the death of Aang, the new Avatar works from the shadows to serve the light. Under the tutelage of the Red Lotus, Korra has taken up the mantle of revolution. She descends into the maelstrom that is Republic City, amid the game of chess between the bending elite and the Equalist vanguard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Times They Are A Changin'

The city of Gaoling slept under the full moon. It was one of the shining jewels in the Earth Kingdom, growing rich with trade and the ongoing revolution of production. New factories, following the lead of Republic City, had filled the city's outskirts.

The paradox of this brave new world lay barely hidden under a gilded veneer. Wealth and poverty were not opposites, but two seemingly inseparable parts of the same tangle. The opulence of Gaoling's rulers created, and was created by, an army of the poor, downtrodden and destitute.

No man had grown richer than the provincial governor, the Right Honorable Ming Fu. He was neither of those qualities, but the privileges of his office had purchased for him the right to demand that others pretend that he was. Through a mixture of business acumen, patronage, and outright graft, Ming Fu had risen from the comparatively humble origins of an Earth Kingdom census taker to his present station.

The multitudes, many of them children, who worked for subsistence wages in his textile mills did not weigh heavily upon his mind as he slept. He slept alone tonight on his sprawling four post bed, wrapped in the embrace of exquisite silk sheets. His wife was out of town on business, but he had also grown bored of his current mistress, and had sent her away before retiring. He slept untroubled by the seething sea of chaos that was Gaoling, content that his guards, each a more practiced earthbender than even he was, would keep him above the turmoil.

Nevertheless, he awoke with a start, throwing the sheets aside. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, peering through the moonlit room for what had disturbed his sleep. The master bedroom, adorned with lacquered wooden wardrobes, elegant gilded couches, and floor to ceiling tapestries was silent and empty. Not even the curtains fluttering in the open window made a sound. "Is someone there?" he asked the darkness. "Cho, are you at the door? This had better be important; I have a very busy day tomorrow."

There was no answer. His age weathered face wrinkled with confusion. "Mind must be playing tricks on me," he concluded, scratching at his receding hairline.

Just as he was about to lay back down, a masked figure silently stepped out of the shadows, into the moonlight streaming through the open window. "Then you had best clear your schedule, Governor," said the figure.

Ming Fu's heart skipped a beat, changing gears into adrenaline fueled panic mode. "Guards!" he shouted.

"They won't come to save you," said the figure, her voice dripping with menace.

Ming Fu scrambled backwards across his bed as she advanced before tumbling off the far end. Growling in pain, he continued his panicked crab walk towards the night stand. "Get away from me!" he ordered. After a moment of shaking, his training returned to him. He remembered the Earth Kingdom Army drills, and his courage returned to him. In a fluid motion, he grasped a short sword tucked by his night stand, and stood to face the intruder.

The woman halted, just outside the reach of his blade. Her stance seemed open, so Ming seized the initiative. He lunged forward and slashed at her torso. With seeming inhuman speed, the woman stepped inside the arc of his blade, catching his wrist with an iron grip. Her other hand slipped past his guard, striking him in the chin.

The next thing he knew, he was sprawled out on the floor in front of the window, his whole body stinging with pain. She'd thrown his portly bulk across the room, he concluded, and the fear returned to him. As his vision focused, he saw the sword on the floor in front of him. At least he'd held onto the sword. He seized it, and sprang back to his feet with an agility that surprised even himself.

"Enough," the intruder commanded.

His body seized up, like a thousand hands grabbing him at once. He would have cried out in agony, such was the force that manipulated every thread of his muscles, but it so overpowered him he could scarcely breath or move his mouth. He felt himself lift off the ground as the woman advanced. "Blood…bending?" he managed to croak.

She got within inches of him. He finally got a good look at her. His assailant wore light armor of a pattern he'd never seen before. Unadorned by symbols, the dark gray clothing blended into shadows. The only bit of decoration was her mask. It was an oval, light gray on one side, dark gray on the other, adorned with stylized smoke clouds on the fringes. The woman removed her hood and mask, revealing piercing blue eyes amidst brown skin. Her oval face was framed by a bob of shoulder-length hair, dark brown, almost black. She couldn't have been much more than eighteen.

"What do you want from me?" said Ming.

"You've planted your roots wide and deep here, Governor," she said, almost spitting his title back at him, "so wide, in fact, that you've infested everyone's garden."

"I got where I am through hard work," he growled.

"Yes, you did work hard at exploiting and dominating the people entrusted to your care. You must be so proud of yourself."

It was her smile that was most unsettling. This bloodbender seemed to delight in verbally sparring with him. Unsporting of her, with that barely relaxed grip on his blood, flesh and sinew. "The ploughman cares not what the worms think," he retorted.

" _Proverbs of the Mandate of Heaven_ , chapter four, verse sixteen."

"Ah, an educated malcontent then."

"Naturally. You've turned the art of domination into a science, a religion, here in the Earth Kingdom. But it's no different here than anywhere else in the world. It is just another form of the oldest intellectual exercise, the search for the superior justification for selfishness."

"A rebel against the world then. With that cosmopolitan focus, you can only be with the Red Lotus," he quickly concluded. "I didn't come to this showdown unarmed, invader."

"I will give you credit, you're sharp. But not sharp enough. Because stripped of your office, you're nothing more than a trumped up thug. You're a crook with a badge, and I have come to bring justice to you."

The fear crashed over him again, this time like a rogue wave, arriving swiftly and without warning to sink the ship of state. "I have money, just name your price."

His sword began to pry from his hand, pulled by an invisible and inexorable force. It tumbled through the air before floating above the woman's outstretched hand. "H-how is that possible?" he said.

She grasped the jeweled handle of the sword in her gloved hand. "The will of a thousand generations cannot be bought," she said, levelling the sword at his throat.

"But how? The Avatar was lost to us. Some even said the cycle had ended. It can't be."

"Denial now. How disappointing."

"Fine, my mistake! It's clear you still want something. Something not for yourself, you want me to change my ways, I understand that. You think me wicked and corrupt."

The sword nicked his skin, just enough to draw a small trickle of blood. "Vague promises under the threat of death; frankly, I don't believe you."

"Raising your blade to the sovereign is treason against Heaven itself," he muttered, almost like a litany. "You're the Avatar, you're supposed to embody the Mandate. Your last life came to bring peace!"

"I am not Aang, Governor. I do not come to bring peace. I bring a sword. I come to turn slaves against their masters, and to end the cycle of tyranny."

"Just tell me what you want!"

"There are three men hanging outside the walls of the city. Their bodies are left to rot as a vivid warning to all who pass. Their crime was simple. They forgot the Golden Rule: he who has the gold makes the rules. So when they tried to organize the workers at the mills…your mills and the mills of your friends…they were taken from their homes in the small hours of the morning. Accused of crimes against the state, they were ramrodded through a court designed to deny justice and preserve the state. Then they were killed."

The Avatar paused for effect. He knew what the point was, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it and give her the satisfaction.

"I want you to bring them back to life. Still giving me the silent treatment huh? What is, that outside the purview of your vaunted office? Perhaps we should talk to Earth Queen herself, the Most Heavenly Potentate of Divinity should be able to undo a little bureaucratic slip up like that, right? Gosh, it's almost like this isn't a game and our actions have permanent consequences."

Her grip relaxed on the sword, and it pulled away from his neck. The blood bending grip relaxed slightly. "You asked me what I wanted. I will tell you, no more word games. I have come to teach humanity a lesson they will remember in their bones: the people are not the pawns of the great and powerful. Only through struggle will they win their freedom. You, Governor, are to be my object lesson."

The sword plunged into the side of his neck before slicing across his throat. The blood did not come except in a trickle, held back by the power of the Avatar's blood bending. He tried to scream out, to curse her, but the words died in his throat. Her grip was strong, like the weight of his sin, and he couldn't even move his lips against the force. The sword clattered on the floor, unstained by blood. Without a word, she replaced her mask and walked to the open window.

With a hint of remorse in her words, she looked over her shoulder and said, "Trust that this brings me no pleasure. But my duty to the world is greater than any one life, even my own. Multitudes have suffered and died under your boot. I cannot forget that. I cannot forgive that."

She jumped into the night. The weight of her blood bending released all at once, and a torrent of blood erupted from his neck. He collapsed instantaneously, losing consciousness as the life drained from him.

His guards recovered from the drugs just before dawn. Awaking in a stupor, they clumsily pulled little darts from their necks before stumbling upon the lifeless body of their master, slain in his bedchambers. His own sword lay next to his fallen body. They concluded he had tried and failed to fight off his attacker. Chasing their own tails, they began franticly searching for the assassin.

In a small port town some thirty miles down the valley from Gaoling, a young woman boarded a ferry bound for Republic City. Squeezing her large pack into the crowded steerage class cabin she shared with three others, the Avatar settled into bunk to sleep, fighting off the admonishing voice in her head. The real test still lay ahead.


	2. Dialectical Tension

**2 - Dialectical Tension**

Korra awoke to find herself laying a green field bedecked with flowers in a multitude of colors, the warm sun shining in her face. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she wondered what sort of dream this was, so far from the crowded metal hulk of steerage class. She flipped to her feet and brushed off her clothes. The Water Tribe civilian garb felt like returning home.

"It took quite a while to get through to you," said a faintly remembered voice, like a long-lost friend finally reunited. She turned on her heel and met eyes with an old ghost. He was a tall man, with chiseled features, standing proud like a monument as he regarded her with a faint smile. His jaw was lined with a dark beard. Blue arrow tattoos emerged on his head and hands from beneath his orange robes.

"Aang…" she said, "then this must be the Spirit World."

"I'm sure you already know we don't see eye to eye—"

"Save it. I've spent my whole life cleaning up the mess you left behind. You don't get to judge me for my methods."

"Are they your methods, or are they Zaheer's methods?"

Korra blew a petulant strand of hair out of her face. "I don't always see eye to eye with my Old Man either. But he took in an orphan like me, raised me as his own. Better, actually; he encouraged me to be my own woman, to understand that justice is meaningless without freedom."

Aang beckoned for her to follow. After a moment's hesitation, she joined him under a silver leafed tree. He sat cross legged under the shade. She slumped against its saffron trunk, hands behind her head. A small flock of spirits frolicked in the branches above them.

"Is this your first trip to the Spirit World?" asked Aang.

"No…it just never came so easy. You had a million different opportunities to come to me before. Why now?"

"I have been trying. This is the first time you were open to listening."

"I suppose I have been thinking about you and your legacy a lot. Republic City weighs heavily on me."

"We're both orphans in a way, Korra. I know Zaheer immersed you in the culture and philosophy of my people. And I know how much he means to you because I am a part of you. But just because he raised you doesn't mean you must follow in the path he laid before you."

"This isn't about being sentimental. I'm not a kid anymore. Spirits, I'm twenty years old! I am fighting because I believe with every fiber of my being that world must be set free."

"Believe me, I know."

"Then why can't you understand? You stopped one tyrant in your time, but you enabled dozens of petty tyrants collectively just as bad as the Phoenix King."

"Fire Lord Ozai," corrected Aang.

"Semantics. Your quest to bring peace and balance to the world meant suppressing the contradictions, not fixing them. To the workers and the peasants, very little changed when their sovereign changed hands from the Fire Lord to the Earth King, or even to your much hallowed Council of the United Republic of Nations. Exploitation and domination is still just as awful whether it is done by Firebenders, Earthbenders or even non-benders."

"Okay then. You killed Ming Fu even though it pained you so, and you knew it would bring you no satisfaction. Here's what I don't understand: why did the duty to remove a tyrant fall on your shoulders?"

"Because I'm the Avatar. You of all people should know that the Avatar's duty is to the world and the people who live in it. It has been the Avatar's duty since time immemorial."

"So everyone in the world should be free except you? You alone must bear the weight of the world on your shoulders? Why?"

She hugged her knees close to her chest in contemplation. Finally, she answered "Because no one else will."

"How can you lead anyone to freedom when you yourself have no idea what it is to be free? When other kids were playing with their friends or going on dates with the cute boy down the street, you were studying anarchist philosophy, robbing banks with Ghazan to fund the Red Lotus, and honing yourself into a weapon. You don't seem to be the change you want to see in the world."

Just as suddenly as the spirit dream had begun, it ended. Korra's eyes fluttered open, and she was back in the steerage cabin. The only light came from the moon filtering through a small porthole. She heard the dull sounds of talking and games through the ship's metal hull, but the room itself appeared to be empty and silent. Her bunkmates had let her sleep.

Body still heavy with exhaustion, she sat up on the hard mattress. She made a mental note to thank her bunkmates for their consideration. She emptied her water skin into a basin. She washed up with the harsh soap the ship had provided. After freshening up, she separated the water from the impurities with her waterbending, and returned it to her water skin. Fresh and awake now, she dressed in nondescript civilian clothes, a mix of neutral colors that looked like they could be from any one of the nations.

Now for fresh air, she decided. Her stomach began to growl. Food and fresh air then.

After filtering through a small throng of passengers heading to the mess halls, Korra finally made it to the top deck. She breathed in the cool salty air. "Oh thank heavens," she said out loud, "I never knew how much I'd appreciate the open air, even if it's tinged with coal smoke."

A woman leaning on the side railing laughed, "Preach it, sister."

Korra smiled too. The last few days had been lonely, hiding in shadows and skulking in darkness. She walked up next to the woman, leaning over the brass railing to watch the tiger seals ride the ship's wake.

The woman was a bit taller than Korra, with long black hair tucked under a knit cap. She dressed fairly upscale and tomboyish; the tailored trousers and jacket fit her athletic figure well. Her light green eyes met Korra's, and she smiled. "Name's Asami," she said, extending a hand in greeting.

"Korra."

Her handshake was firm. Korra instantly sized her up: probably a child of nouveau riche non-bender. Her mood soured, though she disguised it well. By all accounts, Asami seemed to be a friendly young woman as an individual. But in the broader scale, she was a class enemy, of the same ilk as Lau Gan-Lan or that despicable opportunist Varrick.

"So Korra, will this be your first time in Republic City?"

"Not exactly. I came here several times when I was a little girl. This will be the first in almost ten years though."

"Your family travelled a lot?"

Korra nodded.

"Mine too. Mostly business stuff. Dad didn't want me far from where he could watch over me, so he dragged me all over the world whenever he had to negotiate with suppliers or open other markets."

_Well, we have that much in common_ , Korra said to herself. They never said as much, but the whole band surrounding Zaheer had thought of Korra like a daughter or kid sister. They were fiercely protective of her, and at times it felt stifling to have so many parental figures hovering over her. "Yeah, my Old Man did a lot of humanitarian work," she half-lied, "so we never stayed anywhere for long."

"Oh, I just spent the past few months doing charity work in the Earth Kingdom."

_Oh great, another wealthy do-gooder with liberal sensibilities_. "Oh, how'd that go," said Korra, feigning interest.

"Dad always called it my hobby," said Asami, barely masking the venom in her voice, "I can't tell you how many 'by my own bootstraps' speeches I got from him. I think he was convinced that people who were not succeeding somehow deserved the bad conditions they lived in. As if all it took was a go-getter attitude to stop the factory upstream from poisoning your town's drinking well. Sorry, I'm venting at a stranger…"

"No, it's alright." _Why must you make it impossible for me to hate you?_

"Hmm…have you eaten yet? Let's get some dinner, it'll be my treat."

Asami was nice, and she seldom had much chance to socialize with people her own age. Besides, she wanted to make her current funds last as long as possible, so she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "I'm starved actually."

"Come on."

Asami took her by the hand, and let her down the deck. _How does she jog in those high heels?_ Korra wondered, as they weaved around clusters of high society ladies and quartets of well-dressed musicians.

"Um, where are you taking me."

"First class dining."

Korra dragged her heels. Asami quickly noticed her reluctance, stopping just in front of the first-class cabins. "I'm…a little underdressed," said Korra. It was a half-truth, and she cursed herself for having deceived such a nice young woman who was nothing but friendly to her twice now.

"Sorry…I sometimes forget that it's harder for someone to go up than to go down. We'll eat where you feel more comfortable."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." _More than you'll ever know._

They settled for second-class dining, a cut above the porridge they were serving to the steerage class. Here, neither would look too much out of place, and the accommodations would be a bit more luxurious. They settled next to each other on a bench in the mess, steam still wafting from their noodle bowls. It tasted like your average street stall food, nothing to write home about.

Asami seemed to take it stride, slurping up her noodles noisily. Korra couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just seeing someone so hoity-toity eating like that."

"I am not hoity-toity! Besides, no one here judges you for wanting to eat your food without following every little social protocol. It's liberating, actually."

Korra slurped up some of the broth. She looked around at the mess and the menagerie of artisans, skilled workers and shopkeepers. There was an uneasiness on their faces. The future was uncertain, and none could forget the pitfalls of their precarious situation. Many seemed to be looking for a new life in Republic City. But none of them felt themselves to be liberated at this moment.

"What brings you back to Republic City, Korra?" asked Asami, her food half-finished.

"Work mostly."

"What kind of work."

"Odd jobs mostly. I've done a lot of things in my travels, like selling newspapers when I was little, or apprenticing with typesetters as a teen. Last job I had was as a longshoreman."

"Well that explains where you get the muscles from. I figured you were a fighter."

"Oh I learned a lot of that. My Old Man and his colleague taught me how to look after myself."

"What about your mother?" asked Asami, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"I'm an orphan actually. Zaheer, the man I call my Old Man, he didn't know a lot about what happened. But from what I heard, my real parents split up before my m-mother knew I was on the way. Unmarried girl in the Southern Water Tribe, so life was going to be rough for her. She couldn't raise me, so she gave me up for adoption. I was very young, so I don't really remember. Sorry, I got something in my eye."

Asami wiped the tear welling up in Korra's eye before she could. "You don't have to act tough…I lost my mother when I was very young."

"Ah..."

"Listen, I know we just met, but I think we should keep in touch when we reach our destination." Asami tore a piece of paper from a pocket notebook, and scrawled an address on it. "This is where I live. It's pretty easy to find, most people should be able to point you in the right direction. When you get settled in Republic City, you should come visit."

"I'd…I'd like that."

* * *

Korra and Asami spent much of the rest of the journey socializing. Occasionally, they'd play Pai Sho or talk about boys and dating life. Korra quickly learned that she was a studious Pai Sho opponent, much more methodical than Korra's own intuitive play style. Asami frequently got the better of her in their matches, but losing never was much of a big deal. It was nice to have a contest that wasn't deadly serious, and sitting on the deck drinking tea, eating fancy little biscuits and playing a game felt like the vacation she'd never had.

When it came to talk about boys and dating, Asami again got the better of Korra. The debutante was shocked when Korra said she'd never been on a date or spent much time playing the game of hearts. "Too busy with more important things," Korra explained, though naturally she didn't divulge the details.

Asami promised to find her a date eventually, an offer she tried and failed to decline. When they arrived in Republic City, they said their farewells, and Korra's little vacation ended. She waited out on deck as the ship sailed past the statue of Avatar Aang. The great metal statue lorded over her in silent judgment.

Today the skies were clear. Korra rushed down the gangplank at the nearest opportunity, ready to free of the confines of the ship. She hefted her pack up the wharf, breathing in the pungent smell of the shorefront. The mix of fresh and decaying fish, seaweed and salt was always familiar to her. In her journeys across the world with Zaheer's Red Lotus cell, it had always been the seaside towns and cities that she had felt most at home in.

She spent a few yuans on some roast fish at a street stall before heading into the city to find accommodations. Zaheer had not approved of her striking on her own like this, but they never saw eye to eye on organization. But in the end, he relented and gave his grudging support to her quest to build new cells to take up the cause of freedom, and gave her a few contacts to look into for lodging.

The first one turned out to be a bust. When she got to the address, it became quickly apparent that the flophouse in question no longer existed. It had been torn down, replaced by a glittering skyscraper filled with luxury apartments. Korra stood at the front entrance, seething quietly. Zaheer had described the neighborhood as poor but safe, inhabited by simple people who only wanted good health and honest work.

Now it was filled with shops hocking expensive perfumes, gold jewelry and expensive suits. The previous inhabitants had been squeezed out. She talked a few of the local medicants, who always proved to be the best intelligence network any anarchist cell could hope for. Zaheer had said that they were everywhere and yet invisible, so had come to hear many secrets. For a few yuans, the middle aged man she talked to divulged much.

He told of her street fights between vigilante bender militas and the Equalists, the ever present probing fingers of the police searching out subversion. After some more prodding, he gave her a few good hiding places that the beggars used to avoid police round ups, and where people went to do their business out of the way of prying eyes. She filed that information away, thanked him, and proceeded to the next address Zaheer had given her.

This was more promising. The neighborhood still fit the mold of the urban proletariat, not yet a slum but very nearly so. The address brought her to a three story brick building at the crest of a small hill. The door was open, so she entered, finding the office almost immediately.

An old woman sat behind the desk, smoking a cigarette while reading a newspaper. Korra approached and set her large pack down with a dull thud.

"Can I help you?" the raspy voiced woman asked.

"Yes, I was looking to rent a room."

The woman set her newspaper down, and sized Korra up. "Bender or non-bender?"

"I don't see how that's relevant, ma'am."

"Sorry, but according to city code, non-benders are subject to background checks before renting property."

"That seems excessive."

"The city government is just following the laws passed by the United Republic Council. They want to curb Equalist terrorism. I, on the other hand, am just doing my job. So, bender or non-bender."

"Bender then."

"Would you mind demonstrating?"

Korra quickly decided on a cover. She'd have to stick to it from now on. Planting her feet firmly into the horse stance, she levitated woman's empty stoneware cup.

"Water Tribe earthbender huh? Well I guess the younger generation is getting looser in its morals."

Korra gritted her teeth but otherwise didn't react. It had been a shocking day when teenage Korra learned that many people, particularly older generations, frowned upon intermarriage between the nations, some of that visceral disgust had never left her.

After some haggling, they came to an agreeable rent, which was considerably more than she had wanted to spend on lodging. The old woman, she learned, was the property manager, and represented the absentee landlord for this property among others. She gave Korra a key, and showed her to her attic room.

"Another earthbender rents the other attic apartment. Proper Earth Kingdom though. Young woman, keeps to herself, works nights. Don't be too noisy, I won't have any complaints from the new tenant."

"No ma'am, absolutely not." Said Korra, sloppily saluting.

After unpacking her bag, and finding hiding places for her armor, mask and weapons, Korra stretched out on her futon, staring at the wooden rafters. "So far, the revolution is getting off to slow start," she muttered.


	3. Internal Contradictions

**3 - Internal Contradictions**

Soapboxing was hard work. After a long day of delivering agitprop in Tea Leaf Square, Zhou's voice was hoarse. Her calves ached from standing awkwardly on that box, and she felt generally worn out from several adrenaline fueled confrontations. But that was a day in the life of an Equalist agitator. Benders did not take kindly to the proles challenging them. Occasionally they'd turn violent, or so she heard. She hadn't seen it yet, for she was new in this game. But she was young, and adept at public speaking, so this became her calling.

"Sun's gone down," said her partner Gao.

The crowd had thinned to one teenage boy by now. She nodded solemnly as the bullhorn fell from her fingers to clatter on the ground. "Ah, clumsy me," she said.

The boy scurried forward to pick up the bullhorn, offering it to her, "Here. I liked what you had to say. It's a shame people aren't stopping to listen now."

He was tall and a bit gangly, just like her. The light green clothes he wore seemed out of place on his slighter frame.

"You should get headed home, kid," said Gao, "It's not safe to be out after dark."

Slightly flustered, the teen left. As he went, he said he'd be back to listen in tomorrow.

"Nice kid," said Gao, "I think he's sweet on you, Zhou."

"You're pulling my leg," she said, slumping onto the soapbox.

Gao was in his forties. He'd been her father's lifelong friend, and had always looked after her and her mother since her father had been taken from her. Gao had taken to the role quite naturally, but she didn't know if she quite trusted his judgment on this. He was, after all, old, and she was certain that things were so different now from when he was a kid.

"No, I'm serious. Anyway, I know you've had a long day, but we should really get packed up too." Gao began taking down the Equalist banners, neatly rolling them up. After a moment, Zhou jumped to her feet. She tied her shoulder-length brown hair back and began to load up their pamphlets into a slightly used beige Satomobile.

She felt Gao put a hand on her shoulder. "Hold up, kid"

Three men were approaching, dressed well above their demeanor. Wealthy lowlifes meant trouble. "You should get ready to run," said Gao. His usual mirth had evaporated; this wasn't a suggestion.

"Well well well, what are the Equalists doing in Triple Threat territory?" said the man in the center. He was tall and well built, dressed in a slate blue suit and brimmed hat.

"Gee I dunno, Viper," said his pale, weasly looking associate, "looks like they got lost. Maybe we should show them the way out of here."

Zhou decided that this Viper's friend had a punchable face. She would have liked nothing more than to kick his teeth in. But it was clear that all three were benders, and they liked to play with their prey first.

"Excellent idea Ping," said Viper with a feral grin, "the hospital's only a couple of blocks from here. We'll give 'em a free ride."

Zhou growled, balling up her firsts.

"Don't do anything stupid," Gao said, glancing at her.

"My, she's a feisty one," laughed Viper, "Little miss equalist still wears the Fire Nation red. Suits here temper. Maybe she should learn some manners when speaking to her betters. It'll cause her a lot of trouble if she never learns. Say, why don't I teach this pretty little girl of yours how to be a proper lady. When I'm done with her, she'll be a woman—"

"If you say one more word…" said Gao.

"You'll what?" said Ping. With a flick of his fingers, fire danced out of his hands. Zhou stepped back, throwing her hands up as a shield.

The fire didn't reach her. Though it singed Gao's graying beard, it was clearly just another part of the game of cat and mouse. Gao had gritted his teeth, his fists balled into white knuckled fury.

"That's what I thought," Ping stated.

"Looks like we got to teach these Equalists a lesson, boys," said Viper, gathering a tendril of water.

The third associate pulled stones up from the street. "The more your fight back, the worse it'll be," he said.

"That's right," said Viper.

"I guess I'm just a slow learner," Gao said solemnly. His eyes flickered to her, telling her to make a break for it.

He did pretty well for himself, a little over the hill as he was. With agility that surprised her, Gao lunged straight for Viper, punching him square in the jaw before he could react. He got another hit in before Viper dashed back, throwing up a hail of ice to screen for him.

Gao blocked as best he could, but the ice dug into his flash, drawing blood. He danced out of the way of Ping's fire, and Zhou finally started running. She got a few steps before the ground came up and grabbed her by the ankles. She howled in pain, and the stoned locked around her limbs began to drag her back.

She saw Gao on the ground, unconscious. His green tunic had been burnt, the skin beneath was crisped to a sickly red color. "Gao!" she cried.

"Sorry sweetheart, but your daddy can't save you now," said Viper. He grabbed hold of her roughly, pushing her up against the brick wall.

"Gee, I dunno boss, you're starting to creep me out," said Ping.

"Someone's got to teach this bitch a lesson. You can either help or quit your bellyaching."

 _Sorry, kid, but not sorry enough to help_ , Ping's eyes seemed to say. With a shrug, he turned to watch for interlopers.

"Boss, ain't there an alley way right around the corner?" said the third man.

"Excellent notion," Viper replied, dragging her towards the alley.

Zhou wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of looking terrified or begging. It wasn't in her nature, and she knew it wasn't going to do her any good. She spat in his face instead.

"Ah, real feisty. Good, I like 'em like that. Makes it more fun to tame them."

Something small smacked into Viper's head. It knocked his hat off, and his grip slackened. Zhou heard a one-yuan coin rattle on the ground. A voice in the distance said, "If that's how you like it, why don't you try taming me." Whoever she was, she sounded cool and confident.

"Make sure she don't run away," ordered Viper. Zhou felt the bricks engulf her hands. She could just see a figure barely emerging from the shadows, perched on the fire-escape like a hawk, looking down on the three triads.

Never the one for the dramatic standoff, Ping let loose a barrage of fireballs at the masked woman. The fire washed harmlessly over the building as she flipped out of the way. The bright flares finally let Zhou get a good look at her rescuer.

The leather armor she wore reminded Zhou of the suits the Equalist paramilitaries wore. Hers was of a slightly different pattern, the same dull gray as the shadows. She wore a mask that reminded Zhou of stories of avenging spirits her father had told her when she was little.

The masked woman pivoted as she fell. As she flicked her wrist, a bolt of blue-white fire shot towards Ping. The bolt struck him in the thigh, searing into his flesh. Ping fell to the ground, and for the first time that she could remember, Zhou found herself rooting for a bender. Two more fire daggers flew at Ping. But Viper was as quick as his namesake. He jumped in their path, pulling a wall of water from the decorative fountain at the center of the square. The fire daggers exploded into puffs of steam.

Viper's arms whorled, and the water followed like his dance partner. The wall of water became a long whip, arcing towards the masked woman. But then something inconceivable happened. Rather than trying to dodge out of the way, the masked woman turned into Viper's attack, raising her arms like a guard.

Viper's grin turned to horror in an instant, as the water whip stopped short of the woman. It flowed around one arm, snaking across her shoulder to the other. In a fluid motion, the masked woman pulled the water from Viper's hands, and sent it back to him as a torrent. The racing jet of water, as wide as a tree trunk, struck Viper square in the chest, knocking him straight off his feet. In an instant, the water turned to ice, encasing both him and Ping in a frozen prison.

The third man heaved a statue from the fountain with his earthbending, and sent the stone racing towards her rescuer. Still not out of surprises, the masked woman kicked the onyx statue of Aang back at him. Unprepared for this eventuality, he was found himself clobbered.

Zhou was more than a little surprised. Everyone knew that a bender, no matter how powerful, could only master a single element. Only the Avatar could bend all of the elements. She couldn't believe it. How could the Avatar rescue her? Everyone said that the Avatar had been lost to the world. Some even believed that after 20 years and no sign of reincarnation, that Aang had been the last.

The Avatar approached the ice encasing Viper. She plunged her hand into it, the water instantly parting before her. She pulled Viper coughing from the ice, but didn't give him a moment of respite. Faster than Zhou thought possible, the Avatar drew a black meteoric metal knife from her belt, pressing the point against Viper's throat.

"Okay listen up hoodlum," she commanded, "you're going to deliver a message to your boss for me. Tell him that judgment is coming. And tell all of your friends it's time for the rats to leave the sinking ship. And as for you…I don't know who you are or how important you think you are; If I catch you so much as jaywalking, you won't have to worry about the police anymore. Because I will bury you, right then and there."

For such a mouthy bastard, Viper was strangely quiet. The Avatar kicked him to the ground, "Now, get out of my sight," she commanded.

The three triads obeyed, limping away with their tail between their legs. The Avatar watched them leave. When she was sure they were gone, she stooped over Gao's body, checking his pulse.

"Hey, get away from him, bender!" Zhou cried.

The Avatar turned to her, head cocked. "You do understand I'm on your side right? Did they hit you in the head, or were you not taught what a rescue looks like?"

"You're a bender, same as them. Benders are violent. They oppress and exploit us. You carry the same taint. Worse, you're at the top of the bender pyramid."

"Ungrateful little shit," muttered the Avatar. She pulled water from a flask, placing it over Gao's burns.

"Don't touch him!" said Zhou.

The water began to glow, and she could hear Gao begin to groan. "I'm healing his burns. Burns need to be treated immediately, or they could get infected."

Zhou still seethed. But the wounds began to close, and some of the regular color began to return to Gao's skin. After some squirming, Zhou was able to slip free from the rocks securing her to the wall. Rubbing her bruised wrists, she limped over to her wounded Guardian.

"You're not hurt badly, are you?" the Avatar asked, not taking her eyes from her work.

"No," she replied meekly. The anger had started to leave her. At least part of her felt a little grateful for the rescue. Not all of her though. "Viper; you let him go. Why?"

"I didn't want to traumatize a little girl."

"I'm not a little girl, I'm sixteen."

"Truly _wise beyond your years_. What did you want me to do, kill him?"

"Maybe."

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Well, no but—"

"Then shut up."

Gao's eyes fluttered open. "Ugh, whatever you're doing it feels nice," he groaned "Oh…bending."

"Don't judge too harshly, it may be saving your life," said the Avatar, almost teasing.

"I had the strangest dream. Some triads attacked us, and then the Avatar came to save us. Wait, please tell me, is Zhou alright?"

The Avatar looked up at her for a moment. "She's a brat, but she's unharmed."

"Zhou, did this bender rescue you?"

"Yes," she said reluctantly.

"Then I suppose Amon will have to forgive this heresy," Gao concluded. He closed his eyes while the Avatar continued her work.

"Why did you do it?" asked Zhou.

"Do what?" said the Avatar, not taking her focus away from healing.

"Save us. We're not your people."

"I am your Avatar too."

"Then why did you leave us?"

The Avatar didn't answer. After a minute, she stopped healing him. She helped the portly older man to his feet. "That should do until you can get him to a healer."

"You didn't answer my question! Why did you abandon us?" cried Zhou.

"Zhou, stop," said Gao, "the Avatar is only human. She needed to train and prepare. I'm sure she had her reasons for not revealing herself."

"What, you're siding with a Bender?"

"Zhou…"

She turned to where the Avatar had been standing, only to find her nowhere to be seen. The square was as empty and desolated as the moon, and the Avatar herself had disappeared like smoke and shadow.

* * *

Korra had went out at nightfall, beginning the first tentative steps. It didn't take long to find a good place to stash gear and change into her armor. Atop art-deco skyscraper and away from prying eyes, she put away the mask of civilian life.

Tonight, she had planned on staying hidden and just scout out the city from the rooftops. It would take some time to build a good mental map of Republic City, and Zaheer had always drilled into her just how important knowing the lay of the land was. But no plan survives first contact with the enemy.

She spied a scuffle going down in Tea Leaf Square, the same gentrified neighborhood where her first lodging lead turned out to be a bust. After a moment of teeth-grinding contemplation, she resolved to act. It had been easy defeating the three triad hoodlums and disappearing back into the night. Like anyone would believe a couple of beaten up triads or scared Equalists that they'd seen the Avatar.

Rather than go wide and shallow tonight, she figured she might as well go narrow and deep, and just focus on reconnoitering the Tea Leaf Square neighborhood. The tall building provided her some decent practice for her admittedly crude airbending skills. There was only so much she could learn from a nonbender like Zaheer, no matter how much he'd steeped into Air Nomad culture.

Around midnight, she stopped for a short break on top of a luxury high rise hotel. She sat on the edge, drinking water from a leather flask. _Sooner or later, I'm going to have to go to Air Temple Island_ , she said to herself.

She'd gotten flashes of memories of the Air Nomad patriarch Tenzin. They were little bits of her past life rising up like bubbles. Apart from this vague impression, she knew nothing about Tenzin. But she didn't think she could keep the truth from him forever. _That's a puzzle I'm not solving tonight_.

She heard some chattering echo up from the alley way below. _Break time's over_ , she thought, flexing her muscles beneath the treated leather of her armor. She grabbed the smooth face of the building with earthbending and began sliding down. She stopped about half-way down. If she strained her ears, she could just barely make out what they were saying.

"—don't tell me you're getting second thoughts. We already finished the job?"

"I don't do women or kids, Tai. You know that."

"Accidents happen. It ain't your fault. Our mutual friend will be paying us very well for this job. All we gots to do is collect"

"I don't like it still."

It looked like this Tai character was patting the second man on the back. "Just think about all the insurance money, and how big our share will be."

Korra felt her blood begin to boil. The stone façade crumbled under her fist. She'd smelled the ash, even walked by the burnt-out hulks of a slum when she first came to Republic City. The uneasy question ran through her mind: _if I hadn't stopped to settle accounts in Gaoling, could I have stopped it?_

She shook her head, pushing down the guilt. It was useless to worry about what might have been. Stop evil before it starts; but if all else fails, punish the wicked.

She descended down into the alley, landing behind the two thugs. They were both tall and broad-shouldered, their clothes a bit frayed at the edges, the red dye fading into an almost muddy color with age. They spun around quickly, but not fast enough.

She punched Tai first, striking him the throat swiftly and without error. He stumbled back, gasping, and she followed up with a quick salvo of blows to his chakras in his arms and legs. A gout of flame rushed at her from the other man.

She flipped backwards. Springing off her hands, she righted herself and planted her feet squarely in the hardpacked dirt. She volleyed a quick series of stones at the second man. He blocked them quite proficiently, turning each fluid parry into a riposte of fire aimed her direction.

It was too much fire to dodge in this narrow corridor, so she raised a small wall of Earth to block instead. "Fire Nation Army style," said Korra, "powerful, but predictable." With a quick motion, the earthen wall broke into a stream of sand coursing towards the firebender.

With her foe momentarily blinded, she ran up the walls out of his arc of fire. She dropped down into the whirling dust, and seized his arms before knocking his feet out from under him. She heard his shoulder pop out as he felt, but she didn't relent.

"Ah, get off of me," her foe cried.

"I can't move my arms or legs," said Tai, "What'd you do to me?"

"Who paid you?"

"I ain't telling nothing to you," said Tai.

"Boss, maybe we should tell her,"

"Shut it Bulon," ordered Tai, "we ain't telling this woman anything. We don't rat our clients."

Korra twisted Bulon's arm ever so slightly more. "While your loyalty is touching, I really don't have time that."

"We ain't talking to no copper."

"A slum burned down yesterday. Seven people died in the fire. Very tragic, it was all over the news. Someone's collecting the insurance money. Give me the name," Korra said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah," Bulon said through the tears, "you ain't got nothing on us."

All it took was a sudden twist and jerk, and she felt the bones in his arm begin to snap. He wailed quite loud, but she felt she got her point across. "I'm not with the police."

She let go of Bulon, sure that he was incapacitated. She lifted Tai by his shirt collar, slamming him against the side of the building. "At least your friend had the decency to feel bad about it. So he'll get to walk away from this. You, on the other hand, I'm not so sure about."

"What are you?" Tai coughed.

"Your life depends on what you say next. Don't make me repeat myself again. I'll know if you're lying"

"His name's Kaifeng. Not that it will do you any good. He's one of the biggest landlords in the city, pays protection money to the Agni Kais. You go after him, you're digging your grave, cos we'll be there."

"There, was that so hard." She punched him straight in the nose. Korra tossed him aside as the blood began to stream down his face.

"You said you'd left us go!" he protested.

"I said I'd let you live. Don't make me reconsider that."

She disappeared into the night. Already she was getting rather more involved than she had wanted in Republic City. But her next move would have to be carefully planned. No more going off half-cocked.

* * *

The Lieutenant rushed past the honor guard. Deep within one of the Equalist's subterranean lairs, the nerve center of the revolution kept hidden from prying eyes. The beating heart of the movement waited in his office, gazing at a well-worn map of the world behind his implacable mask.

"Amon, you might want to take a look at this," said the Lieutenant.

Amon took the decrypted report from his outstretched hand. He silently scanned over it.

"I know we're at a critical point right now. The underground party is already stretched thin as it is, but something this blatant needs our response."

"You're correct, Lieutenant," Amon said coolly, "such atrocities can't go unanswered. If the law won't act, then we will. This Kaifeng's actions demand retribution, and I can think of no better propaganda of the deed than bringing a slumlord arsonist to justice."

"He's protected by the Agni Kai Triad. I'll lead the operation myself."

Amon patted him on his shoulder, "No, I think not old friend. I'll be needing you and your troops to prepare for our revelation. This prologue will be best handled by one of our newer cadres. Do you have anyone in mind?"

The Lieutenant thought for a moment. "Asami Sato."

"Yes, I remember you telling me about her. She's been getting us access to that parasite Hiroshi Sato's research. Effective organizer, but untested in the field."

The Lieutenant smiled. "That's her alright. She's on the Leveler faction, we know she's committed. And if I remember correctly, she has a bit of a personal vendetta against the Agni Kais."

"If you don't think that will compromise the mission, then have her put a team together."

"With pleasure, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.


	4. Character Mask

The sky over the bay roiled with dark clouds, the color of the soot that belched from smokestacks of Republic City’s mills. The promontory on the west side of Yue Bay contained the smallest borough in the city, dominated by a labyrinth of docks, wharfs and warehouses. As the ships steamed in and out of the bay, a flock of beggars, vagabonds and other castaways from civilization came and went.

Tenzin stepped off the ferry. The water-logged wood of the old pier squished beneath his feet. Like a half-remembered dream, he had woken to an irresistible urge to visit the west side. Something had beckoned him to this place, and it would not cease to nag at him until he answered its call.

His stately robes caught everyone’s attention. Most would stop what they were doing for a moment or two, wondering what this face from the newspapers was doing down on their level. As the prelate and patriarch of the Air Nomads, Tenzin often received this attention. It never got any easier.

He meandered through the fish markets and warehouses almost in a daze, barely seeing the world around him. This place seemed familiar, and yet he was certain he’d never stepped foot in it in his life. It began to rain. It scarcely bothered him.

As was his habit, Tenzin would rouse from his stupor long enough to give a yuan coin to beggars. Brushing off their profusion of thank-yous each time, he continued his quest, following the urge in his heart wherever it led him.

Around noon, as the rain-shower had turned into a storm, he was ready to give up. Cursing his foolishness, he stormed back to the docks, already fumbling for the ferry fee in his purse. Back to Air Temple Island, for some hot tea, and bath to cure him of this foolishness. As he reached the waterfront, a young woman crossed his path. Dressed in rags, dirty and unkempt, she was as invisible as the rest of the mendicants until the moment she had bumped into him.

“Ah, sorry,” she cried, bowing meekly.

“No, no, it’s quite alright,” said Tenzin, every bit as embarrassed as this young woman, “I let myself get out of balance, and didn’t watch where I was walking.”

The young woman looked up at him. She appeared to be barely out of her teens, with unblemished sable skin under the veneer of grime. Bright blue eyes hid behind a curtain of brown hair.

“Well miss…have we met before? You look familiar,” said Tenzin.

The girl’s neutral expression quickly turned to panic. “No, we’ve never met before!” she cried, and bolted away.

The words came automatically: “Wait! I only want to talk to you.” He chased after her, spurred on by some desperate force. For a moment, an image of his father appeared before him, disappearing with the next blink. It couldn’t be…

* * *

The slumlord Kaifeng’s mansion sat upon a small bluff overlooking the docklands. Korra had reconnoitered the walled villa all morning. For the most part, she had put her bowl down on the street corner and just waited. In the garb of a mendicant, she was practically invisible. Men talked unguarded around her. The sentries at the villa overlooked her as she ambled by, probing its defenses.

After a productive morning, she decided to take the day’s meager earnings and head home. She had to admit she was not a very good beggar, and the take had barely covered the costs of the venture. She grumbled as she pretended to limp down to the waterfront, stooped over on a walking stick. Her funds wouldn’t last much longer before she’d have to find paying work. And that would cut into the time she had available for the mission.

She took one more look over her shoulder at that parasite’s mansion. Something inside gnawed at her. She swore she tasted the ashes in her mouth; it was the guilt that such evil could exist, and that her will for good would be so useless against it. Punishing him would not bring the victims back.

A tall man bumbled into her. Startled, she dropped her talking stick as she turned to supplicate herself to him. Something nostalgic welled up in her heart as she saw the man who had been her son in another life. He looked older than he should have, nearly twenty more weary years weighing him down. Tenzin’s boyish vigor had matured into distinguishedness. She felt a pride in him she could not understand.

“Ah, sorry,” she said. _This has to be his doing_.

“No it’s quite alright…” he babbled on. She found herself looking up at him. It was good to hear his voice again…and for the first time. The beard was a good look on him, though she didn’t remember him having it twenty years ago. His face lit up with a spark of recognition.

 _Shit_ , she said to herself, _I don’t need this complication right now Aang!_ She began to flee as he asked for her name, the guise of the frail beggar forgotten. She ran as hard and as fast as her legs would carry her. She was afraid to look back; afraid that nostalgia for a former life might derail her from the cause that drove her onwards, that she might want to stop if she saw him again.

Korra sulked in one of Republic City’s parks. All that she learned in a life spent in a guerilla war against the present state of things slowly returned to her. Calm returned, and she determined she wasn’t being followed or observed. She retrieved her things from the cache she’d made, and found a secluded pond to wash up.

She laid her pack on the shores, and began stripping off the foul rags. Bar of soap in hand, she dove into the pond. The water was cool and clear, and she wanted nothing more than to give into the primal urge in her blood and swim like the aquatic creature she was. She washed up instead, cleaning the mud and grime she’d carefully caked onto herself.

Korra was just about to finish up when a young man burst backwards through the bulrushes. An inflated rubber ball splashed in the pond in front of her. The stout young man’s hands hung in the air for the moment in disappointment. He looked over his shoulder at her and the ball. “Come on Mako, you threw it too far,” he whined.

He looked at her again, and finally noticed her presence, standing nude waist deep in the water. “Oh shit, I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said, frantically covering his eyes.

Korra shrugged her shoulders. She grabbed the ball and began wading towards the shore. The man stood their trembling, as though he expected divine retribution. His skin had a light complexion. His features were practically stateless; he could’ve been from anywhere except the Water Tribe. He wore an olive-green double-breasted jacket.

“Is this your ball?” said Korra.

“Um, yeah,” he said, still covering his eyes, “Look, I didn’t mean to peak on you bathing—though you gotta admit it’s pretty strange to be bathing in a public park—not that I have a problem with that, someone like you can bathe wherever they like—not that I saw too much mind you.”

She nudged him with the wet ball. “Relax, I’m not mad.”

His fingers parted to reveal his green eyes. “You’re…not?”

She smiled. “Not at all. If you don’t take your ball I might keep it.”

He cautiously took the ball from her outstretched hand. His face had turned beet red from blushing. She noticed now that he had a little lock of hair that curled onto his forehead. It was a little adorable.

“Uh, miss, I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re kind of naked right now.”

“Yup.”

“And you’re okay with this?”

“Yes, I was bathing. Admittedly, not the most conventional place, but body-shame is bourgeois anyway.”

“Aren’t you afraid someone will ogle you?”

“Why, are you ogling me Mister—”

“B-bolin, and no I’m not.”

“Then there’s no problem.” She extended for a handshake, and he gingerly accepted. “My name is Korra.”

As fun as it was to watch him blush and squirm, Korra had more pressing matters to attend to. She began to dress. Bolin gulped she began to put on her underwear. “So are you new to Republic City,” he said, as though a little small talk could dispel the cloud of awkwardness hanging around him.

“Yes, just got here. So tell me about yourself Bolin.”

“Well, I’m a pro-bender. Mostly aspiring at this point. My brother and I, we’re trying to make it into the major leagues right now. What do you do for a living?”

“We’re more than what we do to earn our bread, Bolin. It’s been swell, maybe I’ll catch you around the arena though.”

“Ah, that would be great actually. I could even get you backstage access!”

She quickly gathered up her things (and tucked the rags under a bush while Bolin wasn’t looking.) He seemed like a nice guy. And some part of her genuinely wanted to go see the pro-bender matches and watch Bolin in action. But right now, her mind was focused on the cause, and that meant that Bolin was an asset who could get her access to secure areas and thus valuable. She didn’t want to get too attached, because she might have to abuse his trust to get at a target.

After parting, that thought weighed on her. The big picture was so clear. Republic City was the beating heart of a world system that treated men and women as disposable. They’d be worked as much as possible, and paid as little as possible, until they too were replaced. It was exploitation and domination, whether it was a gangster capitalist like Kaifeng or the dark chaotic mills of the great industries. And like any guilty system, it recognized no innocents.

But that big picture was made of so many little pictures. Bolin was one of those innocents, and right now she was thinking of how to exploit his naïve, trusting nature to advance the cause of the Red Lotus.

When she returned to her little flophouse, she knocked her head against the rough wooden walls a few times. It did very little to work out her frustration, but it was in her nature to act out as much as she tried to discipline herself against it. She heard her next door neighbor stir, and silently cursed.

She lay on her unmade futon and let her mind wander. She wasn’t ready to meet Tenzin yet, and some part of her seemed to dread seeing how disappointed he’d be in what she’d become. But Korra was the Avatar and she’d have to deal with it. Eventually.

Her stomach began to growl. She looked at her nearly empty coinpurse and groaned. Suddenly Asami popped into her mind. The debutante do-gooder had insisted she stop by soon. And while she loathed the thought of using a friend for free food, she felt her spirits lift at the thought of seeing Asami again. She fished the note with Asami’s address out of her pack, and was out the door again.

When she arrived at the address, Korra stared with disbelief. There had to be some sort of mistake. She’d prepared for opulence, trekking the winding roads to the outskirts of Republic City. This was where the affluent made their abode. But the estate before her was more than opulent, it was practically palatial. It was almost obscene. Sprawling green fields lined with perfectly cropped hedges and cute little bushes. A vast mansion contoured the rolling hills, with multiple levels flanked by gleaming spires.

Korra stood awestruck at the front gate. The marquee said “Sato Estate.” Korra quickly double checked the address. This was the right place. Which meant her cute little friend was Asami _Sato_ , a daughter of one of the wealthiest industrialists in the world.

Korra meekly pressed the intercom button. A voice crackled over the speaker, clipped and regal: “Sato residence. How may I assist you?”

“Um, I’m here to see Asami.”

“Might I ask who has come calling for the young mistress?”

“Tell her Korra is here to visit her.”

She waited ten awkward minutes, idly kicking a lose stone on the pavement. It made sense, she supposed. It probably took some time to find her in that castle. The intercom finally crackled to life again. “Please follow the path to the main entrance. The young mistress will be waiting for you there.”

The gate unlocked. Korra began walking up the winding path. She noticed security personnel hidden along the path. They seemed to be getting a bit sloppy, and their blinds weren’t as well concealed as they thought. Though the imposing nature of the estate likely deterred most would be thieves.

Asami was waiting at the entrance as promised. She was wearing simple, elegant clothing: a well-tailored black double-breasted jacket with red accents. The Future Industries logo adorned the shoulder patches. The young heiress lit up when she saw Korra approaching.

“Korra! I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me too. Though…while I must say I wasn’t expecting you to be so—”

“Filthy rich?”

“I…was going to put it more politely than that.”

“Korra, listen I really wanted to tell you. I know what you think about this sort of grandiosity. But most people only see me as the daughter of Hiroshi Sato, captain of industry. It was nice to be just Asami for once.”

Korra hugged the taller woman, to say what words could not. That she was still just Asami to Korra. As Asami hugged her tightly, Korra’s stomach began to growl.

“Well, that’s embarrassing,” said Korra.

“Are you always hungry? Everytime we meet, your tummy says hi too.”

“I…lead an active lifestyle.”

“Come on in, we’ll rustle up a little something from the kitchen.”

That little something turned out to be an exquisitely presented luncheon with exotic flavors and smells that Korra had never experienced before in all her travels. Korra felt like a pig eating it so quickly.

They finished with a sweet, bubbly dessert wine. A servant offered to pour their glasses, but Asami waved them away. They were suddenly alone on the veranda. Asami uncorked the wine, and poured a healthy amount into two crystal flutes.

“To friendship,” she toasted.

“To friendship.”

“I saw you squirming under their attention. It was almost cute, how uncomfortable you are being doted on. But now that the raging monster in your stomach is quiet, we can have some time where we can just be friends, and I can forget about this rich heiress nonsense.”

There was a quiet despair to Asami. Korra could see it in how she carried herself, the way she spoke to the servants. It was the despair born out of living in someone’s shadow, being born into a life of privilege that she knew in her bones she didn’t deserve.

All Korra said was “thanks.” But the way Asami’s smile brightened, it was as though she knew exactly what the Avatar was thinking.

Asami gently squeezed her hand, “How have you been settling?”

“Alright. Found a place that’s cheap. Still looking for work though.”

“Are you…I mean—”

“Money’s fine for now. I’ll manage. Though I might ask to crash on your couch if things don’t work out.”

Asami chuckled softly. Korra smiled back. “Whatever happens, I’ll be fine Asami. I just wouldn’t want money to come between us.”

“Trust me, it won’t. There’s a lot of ugliness out there. The least I could do with my dad’s money is help a friend.”

“Would he be okay with that?”

“Pfft. He might be tight-fisted and talk about the importance of self-reliance and the degrading nature of charity, but he’s always happy to indulge his only daughter’s flights of fancy. Or so he calls them. He just doesn’t _understand_.”

The wine was good. The magnum bottle was half-empty before Korra knew it. They just talked and laughed as friends do. The issue of class and class struggle was forgotten for a moment. With Asami, she wasn’t a soldier born into the cause, destined to play a role in the typhoon struggle to remake the world from the ruins of the old. She could just be Korra.

“I told you, I’m too busy for romance,” Korra said with a huff.

“Oh balderdash, you’re never too busy for a little romance. Or a little _sex_.”

Korra blushed a deep beet red. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Sex isn’t something you know with your head, dear. It’s something you feel with your body. Even if you’ve never performed the act, its sensuality is in your blood. Surely you’ve felt attraction for a guy—”

An image flashed in Korra’s mind, of the tables being reversed between her and Bolin, of her stumbling upon him bathing nude in a public park, his body like a statue carved from marble.

“—or for a girl.”

Korra’s heart jumped a bit, and now it was Asami in the pool. It was a confusing thought, but not unwelcome. She thought a moment about which one appealed to her. After gulping down the rest of the wine in her glass, she decided both were great.

“Have you? You know, with—”

Asami grinned slyly. “Oh, I’m not one to kiss and tell. But I’ve had partners before. Men and women.”

Korra swallowed hard.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re blushing even harder now. Oh…I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t tease you about this. It’ll happen when it happens, and I hope it’s with the right person who truly appreciates you.”

“Oh I don’t mind. The teasing I mean. Yeah, I’ve just been so focused with the struggle—er I mean with work.”

“I kind of figured. You seemed like you were more than just a poor girl with a chip on her shoulder. I…just like you don’t want to have money come between us as friends, I don’t want politics to either. You don’t have to censor yourself around me. Honestly, some part of me just wants to see this whole mansion burn down. But that’d be useless and destructive.”

“Asami, you don’t know how happy it makes me to here you say that. Not the burning the mansion down thing—though I honestly wouldn’t mind seeing that—but the whole thing about not treating how I feel as just jealousy or resentment about money. I should probably wait ‘til I’m more sober to talk politics, but you know…a part of me hopes you’ll be on the barricades with me one day. As a comrade.”

Asami chuckled softly. She finished her wine. “Who knows Korra, that day may come sooner than you think.”

There was something grave about how she said it that troubled Korra. The tension in the room deflated as a butler entered again. “Mistress, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but you have a prior engagement, and your father was quite insistent that you not miss this one as well.”

Asami sighed wearily. “The wheels of commerce never stop it seems.”

“Your father wants you to be prepared to take over operation of Future Industries. It is for your own good.”

“Just…give me five minutes. So it doesn’t feel like I’m slamming the door in my friend’s face.”

“Very well.”

Asami turned to Korra. The look on the heiress’s face said “I don’t want to go.”

Korra stretched wearily as she stood. “Asami… I understand. I’ll stop by again soon. Or maybe you can stop by my place. It’s not as spacious, but the tea is better.”

Asami chuckled.

“See, better already.” Korra pulled out a pen and began jotting her address down on a napkin. Then she remembered it was made of silk, not paper. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

Asami gingerly folded the silk, and placed it in a coat pocket. “I look forward to it.”

They said their goodbyes. It felt so rushed. Korra’s head felt so light from the alcohol, from the mirth of Asami’s company. But something felt unfinished. An impulse seized her just as she was about to leave. She turned back to the heiress. Standing on her tiptoes, she leaned up and kissed Asami on her cherry-red lips. Asami was surprised for a moment, but she seemed return the kiss. Her lips were as soft and luxurious as the mansion.

When they broke the kiss, suddenly Korra found herself again. “Sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”

Just as she was about to leave, Asami grabbed both her hands, squeezing gently. The urge to flee left her, and Korra stood there, eyes downcast.

“That was…surprising. But not unpleasant. I enjoyed kissing you Korra. How did it make you feel?”

“I don’t know. But it wasn’t bad. I…I don’t know where I’m going with this. I don’t have a plan and I certainly don’t know what I want. I’ve never had time to think about these things.”

“Then we’ll take it slow. No rush and no pressure. We’re friends who kiss each other. Take your time to figure out what that means to you.”


End file.
